


you've touched her perfect body with your mind

by hazelpeach



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Plot, Reader has backstory, and it's talked about, reader is autistic, traumatized reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-18 21:19:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22700020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelpeach/pseuds/hazelpeach
Summary: you know that she's half-crazy, but that's why you want to be there
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 80





	you've touched her perfect body with your mind

Spencer knew it was unprofessional. But the way you smiled at him kept diverting his mind.

Your hands flew through the warm water of the summer lake, the feel of small creatures touching your fingertips making you shiver every so often. You stare out, wide-eyed at the trees before you, seeing the light sparks of memory over the hanging tire swing.

“How are you holding up?”

Spencer’s unique voice was a sudden, unexpected sound, but a welcome one, too. Your hair is messy, your face is wet from tears, and the clothes you’re wearing are muddy and stained, but he doesn’t mind. He leans down and sits next to you, admiring the way you’re staring at the water with peace.

“I’ll be okay.” You murmur, feeling yourself give in to the sun and smile. “The river keeps me sane.”

The quip makes him happy. Everything you’ve ever said to him has been covered with layers of nonsense, but somehow, someway, they made complete sense to him. It was as if you were able to express exactly how he was feeling with words that didn’t quite make sense. It was beautiful, in a way.

Your parents were part of an unsub’s line of victims, the last one down the lot. It had been a few days since the news was brought to your attention, but it felt as if you’d known it for years. It had settled, it was rough, but it didn’t feel real. It was as if you had already come to accept it. It’s the way you formed grief, and he admired that. 

“We used to sit out here,” You begin. His ears quirk with interest. “My step-dad and I. He told me about his time in Europe. He had so many stories from his childhood.” 

“My favorite was how his father built him a tire swing in their backyard. I had begged him to make me one, too. So he did.” 

His gaze follows yours towards the swing on the other side of the lake, where it sits, untouched. It’s clear no one has used it for months. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.

“It’s not your fault, you know.” Spencer attempts at comfort, knowing full well his efforts are never good, that he’s terrible at expressing feelings, but he still tries. You’ve come to realize this, and knowing that he’s trying is enough for you. It’s almost better than someone else. Anyone else. “You couldn’t have stopped it.”

“I know.”

“Your mind is somewhere else.” He comments. “Can you tell me where?”  
“You’re profiling me, aren’t you?”

Your question leads to silence. He panics, thinking he’s done something wrong, but you just laugh. It’s a small, barely audible laugh, but it eases his tension. “It’s fine, Spencer. I just think it’s funny that even in a moment like this you’re doing your job.”

“A moment like this?”

“Where you’re surrounded by beauty. The trees. The lake. You can see the turtles in the water.”

He takes the moment to just sit and bask in it. He’s never fully understood the appeal of just taking in your surroundings, but he’ll do it for you. Anything for you.

Your hand lightly brushes his, and the feeling makes him squirm. You grasp his hand in yours slowly and smile at the feeling of them intertwined. He’s not used to contact. It’s a strange, foreign feeling.

“Is this okay?”

Spencer is almost relieved by your question, as if the consent brings peace to the situation. “It’s.. um… it’s more than okay, actually.” He does his signature smile, the one where his lips go into his mouth, and it makes you grin wider. You’ve only spent a couple weeks with him, but you know that’s such a Spencer quirk. It’s uniquely him.

“Your skin is so soft. Do you moisturize?”

Your question makes him laugh. It’s so abrupt and blatant. It reminds him of himself. 

“Uh, yeah. I do.” His smile takes over his tone of voice, going up an octave. You rub his hand with your thumb in response, and he leans into your touch. His hand grasps yours tighter, but not too tight as to stop your rubbing. He likes it.

“Reid!”

Derek.

“Uh, that’s… my cue. I have to go.” He goes to stand up, but you grasp his hand a little tighter.

“Tell me I’ll be safe?”

Spencer stares into your eyes, watching them, filled with sincerity. They’re so bright and almost innocent. His heart almost crushes itself at the sight.

“You’ll be safe.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”


End file.
